all messy-like
why would you do that? she asked on the phone.
just trying to keep it real, i said.
um, i thought nothing in yr blog was true!
she got me on that one.
deep down shes concerned about two things. the first is she still thinks im a reflection on her, which i suppose is somewhat true, but i really am an ancient mariner so at some point ive plotted my own destination and established my own reality.
but the second concern is she wants me to get married. even though i dont. and even though she didnt have the greatest luck in that arena, and neither has many of her friends and family.
its baffling to me how we as humans are so stubborn to continue the ways that we know only bring us grief and stress and sadness and heartbreak.
whats so bad about love and freedom? whats so horrible about meeting someone nice, having a fun time, making out, and then years down the road NOT RUINING THEIR LIVES?
worst thing i could ever do to a sweet girl is commit them to a life sentence with my black ass. its bad enough they have to see me without my shirt on.
which is a far more horrific sight than a few magazines and computer wires strewn about the crib.
a messy place is a sign of an active (some may say GENIUS!) mind. At least that’s what I tell myself.
I sympathize with your mother …
You should get married and have kids, you would be the greatest Dad!
I am willing to believe that everything has a well-known (and maybe loved?) place. I will stretch my position as far as to suggest that this is not mess, but merely that sacred form of male organisation.
But one day, you will tidy. And half of what you see in this picture?
It will never be seen again.